The Angel Goldfish Theory

angel goldfish: 06

CHAPTER SIX

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When I came home that day, I knew my Mom felt sorry for forcing me out of the car because as soon as I got into our living room, I saw a pack of my favorite caramel candies lying on the living room table. Even with that, I still couldn’t feel better because Mom’s way of being ‘sorry’ was always confusing and would always get on my nerves. She’d give something she thought I like and would take away something I liked as much—and, as I sat myself on our old, familiar couch, opening that pack of caramel candies, I wondered what she was taking away from me next.

I considered not eating the caramel candies, but I couldn’t resist myself, so I just gave in. While chewing on them I thought about Ms. Harper and remembered everything she’d ever said on her hospital bed. I didn’t know what to say to that—looking back, I guess it just struck me how adults have a completely different mindset than I did. How they live completely different lives and how they see me, back then, as a mere, troublesome teenager they can never become again. A part of me thought they’re just envious, and I remember thinking that I didn’t want to become someone who is so sad and desperate that all they could ever do is to envy somebody.

I couldn’t dive deeper into my thoughts because Mom suddenly appeared, with a sachet of hair dye on her hand. The moment I remembered I would be dying my hair back to black, a groan escaped my mouth.

–

“Thanks for helping me,” I said, staring at my cute little face into Milo’s bathroom mirror. “I didn’t want to do it myself. It’s too painful.”

Milo was standing behind me, dying my hair black. Christ, I hated seeing that. I just looked down on a random comic book from a decade ago, lying around his sink, and decided to read it. It was about an alien whose spaceship malfunctioned, unfortunately landing on Earth. He had to pretend like he was one of the earthlings, but many things went wrong by doing so. I hadn’t read the first page yet, but I knew the lesson would be something like we shouldn’t try to become something or someone we are not.

I looked at my face and my hair and thought, maybe if it’s necessary and we have no choice, we’d have to. Surely the writer of the comic book hadn’t tried to have a teacher fall down the stairs because of them.

“Anything for the best girl boss alive,” Milo replied. His smile made me want to wrap my hands around his neck and hug the hell out of him, but I didn’t.

“Oh, drop it, Milo,” I said, rolling my eyes with a chortle. “I doubt I’d still be a girl boss without my blue beautiful hair.”

“I am sure you’d still be a fucking girl boss without it. Bald and all.”

That made us chuckle, but not too loud, or his aunt would give us a mouthful of nag again. The woman had always looked for something to be angry about, especially when I was there. She hated me that much; she wouldn’t even look at me.

“So, how is our son?”

“Stop calling him our son.”

“But he is!”

“I’m not gonna have this conversation for the seventeenth time this month, Milo.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the nineteenth time . . .”

“Be glad you’re holding my hair right now because if you aren’t I would’ve done something very bad.”